A League of Killers
by AlliesWritingFanFiction
Summary: There was an underground group once, filled with people with very, very unnerving backgrounds. Both despised and loved, they were something. They then dismantled, going separate ways, vowing to never return. But of course, some of them were still active. Then, an assassination was attempted. And now, they must fight for the truth. (T for cussing and violence) (Full summary inside)
1. Prologue Part 1

**Full summary: There was an underground group once, filled with people with very, very unnerving backgrounds. Both despised and loved, they were something. They then dismantled, going separate ways, vowing to never return. But of course, some of them were still active. Then, an assassination was attempted. Becoming the main suspects, they must reunite to bring forth the true criminal. Even if they have to go through a bunch of school students. And the authorities as well. (T for cussing and violence)**

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**Chapter 1.1 : Prologue - Eurosia and Crookman**

**Some street, nighttime...**

The night was kind of pretty. The moon shone the streets beneath it with such ferocious beauty. With a lot of streetlights lit up in the night, it wasn't too dark at least. Few people filled the street; made sense, since it was nighttime.

However, our focus would going to a warehouse at the side of a pier.

The warehouse was busy, filled with a bunch of people; presumably workers from a company, along with some trucks that also seemed to be from some unknown company.

They seemed to be filling up trucks with supplies of what seemed to be just normal everyday things that you see in your house.

However, this is the part where we say, '_they're not just ordinary workers._' Yeah, that's right. These guys are a bunch of gang members, supplying their disguised trucks with tons of illegal stuff from outside the kingdom.

These stuff would then be sold to any third-party that can pay shitloads of money just for these stuff.

Essentially, a black market.

But of course, there would be people that would be against these. Although it would be unclear if it was voluntary or they were to be rewarded if they dispose of mobs like these.

Outside, at one of the entrances to the warehouse, stood two members side by side, acting as guards if supposedly there were to be any intruder around. Snipers were also set up at some high towers that were around.

One of the two guards smoked a cigarette, while the other read something on his scroll. The smoker turned towards his buddy. The smoker noticed his partner seemed a bit shaken. He couldn't really see what was on the scroll, so he had to find out some other way.

"Hey bud, what got 'chu so intrigued there?"

The one with scroll looked towards his partner. He looked back and forth, seemingly looking a bit nervous.

"Uh, nothing...nothing really."

"Nothing huh? So put it down. We gotta make sure these guys finish up first, and then we can go grab a beer and sleep until our next shift. It is your first time working here, ain't it?" The smoker said, tapping his cigarette at the nearest wall.

The one with the scroll nervously nodded, putting his scroll back into his pocket. The smoker placed a hand on his partner's shoulder.

"Listen, uh...what's your name again?"

"Uhh, Gregory, sir. Gregory Chase." Gregory tightened his pose. The smoker chuckled.

"Right, Greg. I can call you Greg, right?"

Greg shakily nodded. The smoker massaged Greg's shoulder.

"Okay, Greg, Sam Rocker. Here's some words of advice. Being a new guy in this business is going to put a lot of obstacles in your way. But don't worry, as long as you keep your tabs on how we survive in this cruel world of ours, you're gonna be fine. Get that?"

Greg stared at Sam for a brief amount of time before lightly laughing.

"Wow, uhh, thanks. I guess. I didn't know people still give out hopeful words these days."

Sam laughed as well.

"Kid, just because we're criminals now, doesn't mean we don't have a code of our own."

They then stood back in their original guard position, looking out for anything suspicious. Not a few minutes later, Greg leaned towards Sam.

"Actually, I have a question."

Sam tapped his cigarette to a wall, making sure the leftover ashes fell. He gestured for Greg to just go for it.

"The League is just a rumor, right?"

Sam froze in his current stance. He slowly looked towards Greg, whose eyes seemed really having the need to know but also seemed nervous with the question.

Sam threw an arm around Greg's head and pulled the new guy closer.

"Kid, we don't talk about _them_ here. Not eva'. Not anywhere in the world will anyone even try to talk about the League. Do you understand me?"

Greg was more than shaken at that point. He was scared. Sam noticed and released him from the chokehold.

"Sorry, kid. It's just that...the League was...something. They were something. I don't think I alone would be enough to talk of the things they have done."

"What did they do?"

Sam waved his hand, shrugging it off. He really didn't want to talk about it.

"Forget it kid. Why? What kind of rumor have you been hearing, or even seeing lately to know about them?"

"T-the thing I read on my scroll earlier. Something about two active members left." His words made Sam look at him with a somewhat surprised face.

"Of the League?"

Greg nodded. Sam let out a huff before letting out a small, yet long laugh. Greg seemed confused.

"Bastards actually got broken up." Sam muttered to himself. He looked towards Greg and gave a small, solemn smile.

"Right, kid. If you didn't know, there was a rumored incident. The League supposedly got separated when some of the members got a bit too...greedy. Or maybe they were selfish, I don't know."

"Is that good or..."

Sam laughed, yet he shook his head. Greg watched as Sam's smile turned into a face of terror.

"No."

Sam's eyes turned towards Greg. The newbie felt a bit intimidated. He'd gotten those eyes from pretty much everyone else. But Sam's look was more of a face of warning instead of the usual, 'I'll kill you' eyes he had gotten from other members.

"As a team, the League can eliminate at least _100_ people in the span of less than half a minute."

Greg stiffened.

"Now that they're separated, it's more dangerous now. They could be taking assassination jobs and actually still live for a long time. Lots of people have tried taking them out one by one, but they all have failed."

Greg wished he hadn't asked. Sam recognized that look and decided to stop talking. He looked at his cigarette, finding it to be almost completely finished. He smoked that cigarette for one last time, looking up into the skies.

He then suddenly dropped his cigarette. Greg looked towards Sam, finding him to be frozen in his stance.

"Sa-"

"Where are the snipers?"

Greg, hearing, 'snipers', looked up to find that their snipers were not anywhere to be found. Sam reached for his walkie-talkie, but before he could, a pair of arms locked his head in place, blocking his respiratory system.

Greg was taken aback. Before he could do anything as well, he, too, was then locked in a pair of arms, his breathing blocked.

They were both unable to do anything. The intruders had already unarmed them from any weapon in reach.

Soon, both of them out of breath, fainting on the spot. Well, Sam was, at least. Greg was still barely breathing. He tried to get a look at the two intruders.

One of them was a female with light blonde hair that covered half her face. She wore grey overcoat over her light brown shirt alongside grey pants. The other was a man with pretty organized jet black hair, save for a the strands sticking out the front. He wore green military jacket over what seemed to be black shirt alongside green military pants.

"How old are you?" The man asked Greg.

Greg, shaken and still out of breath, obviously wouldn't be able to answer it. The man crouched down, getting closer to him.

"How. Old. Are. You?" The man asked again. He looked towards his female partner, gesturing her to go in first. She didn't hesitate, taking out a pair of heavily modified Berettas and going in.

The man looked back towards Greg.

"...n-ninete..nineteen..." Greg weakly muttered.

The man rose back up and stared down at him.

"Are you for..." The man slowly covered his face with his hands. The sounds of people screaming and gunfire from inside the warehouse prompted the man to reach into his back pocket to get something. He set his eyes back on Greg.

"Kid. In a few days, I want to see you do some good. _If_ I ever see you. You're still too young to be spoiling yourself."

The man then left Greg, still on the ground and still trying to breathe. The man took out what seemed to be a modified Colt 1911, going into the warehouse as well, cocking his gun.

Greg stayed in that position for the next couple of minutes, hearing more gunshots and screaming coming from inside the warehouse.

The newbie didn't know what to do. He tried gripping his hands. He succeeded. He tried moving his legs. He also succeeded.

He turned his head towards the warehouse, having the urge to see what was happening inside. Slowly overturning his body onto his front, he then tried to crawl towards the warehouse.

**SPLAT**

Before he could even make any movement, he found something had fallen in front of him. Upon quickly analyzing what it was, he jumped up and took a few steps backwards.

His face was not short of a face filled with horror.

A dead body, filled with a giant, bloody cavity at the spot where his heart was supposed to be. Upon seeing this, Greg wanted to vomit. He covered his nose and mouth with his arm to prevent more foul stench from entering his senses.

Seeing the dead body made Greg to not realize that the gunfight inside the warehouse had stopped. He kept gagging, walking back and forth to control his reflex.

He turned back towards the warehouse and found the two people from earlier standing outside, looking at the warehouse. He noticed the woman was pouring some sort of liquid onto the ground in front of them. The liquid seemed to trail into the warehouse.

Before Greg could try to question them, the man lit a match and dropped it into the liquid, setting the liquid and its trail ablaze.

Greg was speechless. Two people, out of nowhere, stormed into a mob's warehouse, killed everyone, and then they were burning the warehouse down.

The duo then turned towards Greg. He took a step back.

"Kid! You're still here?" The man shouted towards Greg. The newbie didn't know what to do.

He turned his head all around to find any escape route. None. He turned back towards the duo, only to find a gunbarrel fixated in his sight. The woman had one of her Beretta out, ready to shoot him.

"Eurosia!" The man shouted towards her female partner. He rushed towards her and put his hand on her gun, trying to force it back down to her side.

"Damn it, Crookman. He's seen our faces." Eurosia said, really wanting to kill Greg.

"I know. He's seen us. But he's still 19. Possibly just got out of school." Crookman said, looking towards Greg, as if wanting some confirmation. Greg realized that he might be able to get out alive.

If he told them the truth, at least.

"Y-yeah. My name's Gregory Chase. I'm a...I'm..." Greg couldn't finish his sentence. Both Eurosia and Crookman looked at each other. Eurosia looked at Crookman as if wanting him to let her kill Greg.

"Kid. Just tell us. We're not gonna kill you. Yet." Crookman said, with 'Yet' being appointed towards Eurosia, who gave him a smile for that small hint of permission. Crookman hated himself for even adding that last part.

"I'm a dropout."

Eurosia looked at Crookman, who seemed to delve into his own thoughts, thinking of how to response.

"...Huh."

"It's just that...I hate having to always continue my studies. I should be able to just do whatever I want to do now that I'm nineteen!" Greg cried out.

Crookman sighed, looking towards the floor.

"Kid, I'm gonna be honest. I actually wanna kill you myself. But you still have life to look forward to. Just go do something good. Quit this business. Find some jobs to do. Promise me that?"

Greg looked at the duo. Crookman held his pinky finger out, while Eurosia still had her hand on her gun. Greg stared at the finger and shakily held out his pinky finger as well, interlacing it with Crookman's.

Crookman smiled. He then brought Greg in for a hug. Greg was taken aback by the hug, slowly hugging back. He noticed Eurosia seemed a little annoyed at the small intimate session between the two guys.

Eurosia looked towards the other way and noticed alternating red and blue lights in the distance. She grabbed Crookman by the shoulder, ripping him off of Greg. Showing Crookman the oncoming lights, he turned back towards Greg.

"Better run Greg!"

Greg was about to ask when the duo suddenly ran away, leaving him alone. Not a few seconds later, the sound of sirens entered Greg's earshot.

"Oh."

And then, he was running as well. Not in the same direction as the duo. But still, he was running.

**Some cafe, late night...**

The duo sat outside a cafe that seemed to open till late night.

"Really should've just let me get it done with him. Damn it, G." She said before sipping her tea.

"Not Crookman? Oh, CeCe." Crookman, now known as G, chuckled.

"Even if I hate you, I'm still gonna try and be respectful to you. I'm your sis. And we're still...together..." Eurosia, now known as CeCe, said before sipping more of her tea.

G seemed to cringe a bit when CeCe brought up that last sentence.

"You really need to say that last part?" G asked, drinking his iced chocolate milk.

"You really still trying to keep the League alive?" CeCe asked, her eyes fixated on G. G looked back into her eyes for a few seconds before turning towards somewhere else.

"Now that one's just irrelevant." G wasn't intent on answering the question.

"Is it?" CeCe asked, pushing G to answer the question.

The two siblings then were locked into each other's eyes; CeCe fixated on getting G to answer her question, while G was fixated on not answering it.

Before the staring contest could go further, a passerby dropped a big envelope onto their table, seemingly stuffed with something in it. They looked towards the passerby, who pretty much was just walking away on their own.

The duo looked back towards the big envelope. G reached for it, ready to open it. CeCe stopped him.

"You're opening that here?" CeCe asked, wondering if her brother was really serious about opening the letter at that very cafe.

"I mean..." G gestured for CeCe to look around, since there were practically no one at the cafe, save for some employees and some customers inside. CeCe rolled her eyes at him.

G then slowly slid his finger across the opening of the letter, hoping to open it without creating much distraction.

Before he could even do much, the letter then opened by itself. G noticed the glue stain seemed to have peeled off much earlier than it should have.

He carefully looked inside. CeCe leaned forward, hoping to see what was inside it as well. She then saw as G smiled.

"Is that..." CeCe started.

"Yep." G nodded.

They then slowly shared a laugh together, sharing a fist bump.

After a small session of celebration, they finished their drinks and paid the bill. Finally going back towards their current accommodation, CeCe decided to ask something.

"Hey, you think there's going to be any news on what happened earlier?"

G shrugged.

"Beats me."

They continued walking for a more minutes before G spoke again.

"I mean, even if there are any, we're not getting questioned."

"You're right. Why did I even ask?"

"Because you miss your girlfri-"

CeCe then tried to strangle G out of sudden anger and frustration, only to let him go in an instant. G held a hand to his neck before letting out a small laugh, shaking his head. CeCe looked at G and decided to laugh along as well for a little.

The duo then continued walking to their place in peace, ending the night for now.

Well, it would've been peaceful, if a piece of a newspaper didn't suddenly fly into the face of G.

"What the f-!" G yelled, his hands scrambling to get the newspaper piece off his face. CeCe shook her head, swiftly pulling the newspaper off of G's face. G breathed heavily, his eyes fixated on the newspaper piece.

He gritted his teeth and snatched it out of CeCe's hand. He held it tightly in his hands, seemingly ready to tear it into pieces.

"I'm going to tear you apart, you piece of..." G trailed off, his eyes slowly scanning over the newspaper. CeCe seemed confused, raising an eyebrow.

"Uh...G?"

G then seemed to mutter something. CeCe couldn't really hear what he was muttering about, so she then snatched the newspaper piece from G's hands. She then proceeded to read whatever was imprinted on the piece.

"...Why are you intrigued with this? An SDC shithead is just going to announce something." CeCe said, her voice filled with venom as she read the piece.

"To be fair, that shithead _is_ the current head of SDC."

"And why would you be intrigued with this piece of information? You know how much I hate to hear, much less, _look_ at a Schnee! You know my history with them!"

CeCe then looked back at the newspaper piece, feeling angry at this point. She then had a theory, turning back towards G.

"You don't plan on hearing this announcement, right?"

G sighed. He pulled the newspaper piece out of CeCe's hands and ripped it into little pieces. He then proceeded to throw the pieces into a nearby trashbin.

"If it still upsets you, I won't. I'm not about to make my sister hate me."

The siblings then stared at each other for awhile before G opened his arms for his sister. CeCe looked at him, still feeling anger brewing in her heart. However, she couldn't resist much, immediately hugging her brother.

They then stayed in that position for a few while, with CeCe heavily breathing into G's shoulder. G patted her on the back, wanting to calm her down. He knew how much she had repressed her anger towards the Schnee family. But every time she would want to go on an outrage, G would be there for her.

He would calm her down. Just like right there, under a streetlight.

After hugging for a few while, they then let each other go.

"Let's go home, yeah?"

They then continued their journey back to their place in silence.

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**Don't question me...**


	2. Prologue Part 2

**A/N: Pls note that I really don't care if phones don't exist in this world. I wrote a lot of lines with word, 'phone', so you have to bear with me. Also, this has swearing in it. Like, full on F-word and S-word. You have been warned. And I might have to change the rating to M.**

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****Full summary: There was an underground group once, filled with people with very, very unnerving backgrounds. Both despised and loved, they were something. They then dismantled, going separate ways, vowing to never return. But of course, some of them were still active. Then, an assassination was attempted. Becoming the main suspects, they must reunite to bring forth the true criminal. Even if they have to go through a bunch of school students. And the authorities as well. (T for cussing and violence)****

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**Chapter 1.2 : Prologue - Iceman, Skygator and Pawsome**

It would be of no surprise to say that any job place in the whole wide world would either be rewarding or just plain murderous.

The (in)famous Schnee Dust Company is no exception to the latter. Just either underpaying the employees or forcing them to work overtime without paying them extra.

Their work environment is not that much better. The mental presence around it, anyway. Physically, the sections and offices for the employees to work at are friendly to look and interact with. The problem lies with the employees. They would just constantly go apeshit when having to do work that required a very different type of skills.

And_ that_; is the least worst of the bunch. Go up a few ranks and you'll find people's hands getting shoved into a blender just because they accidentally misplaced some files on the wrong cabinet. Up a few more ranks, people get thrown out the f**king windows. For spilling a bit of water. On an already shit-stained floor.

Yeah, this company's practically Hell...for some of the people, anyway.

For some others, they're actually pretty satisfied with what work they have to do. Nobody knows what's up with these people, since all these ones had done practically nothing wrong in their work. Questioning them had became an ongoing theme, although they never seemed to answer truthfully. Such people...

But yeah...dismissing that, let's cut to the chase, yeah?

**Schnee Dust Company, Upper Half Security Office, 1 in the f**king morning...**

"You guarding again?"

From inside the security office, a man in security guard uniform looked from his post towards the doorway; a lady with long brown hair, also clothed in security guard uniform, stood there, looking at him.

"Yeah. Third night this week." He said, his voice seemed to be filled with hints of weariness and sleepiness. He also seemed to be rubbing his eyes a lot.

"What are you doing here? You're stuck here or something?" He asked, still having the strength to ask the lady why she was even there. He then sipped a bit of coffee he had on his desk.

"I guess you could say that. I mean, I do guard the lower half of this building."

Hearing the response, the man rubbed his eyes, wanting to get a better look at the lady. He took a closer look at the lady's name tag.

"Chris...tine?"

"Yeah, Dylan. It's me. Christine. I've worked with you for almost-."

"Almost seven months. Yes, I know you. I'm just..."

Dylan then let out a yawn, covering his mouth with a hand.

"...very sleepy. Sorry I didn't recognize you there."

The lady, Christine, just sighed. She had became used to Dylan's attitude of always being the one to be the night guard even when he wasn't supposed to do it. She had made a lot of attempts to try and get him to stop taking the night shift whenever the person that was supposed to be there wasn't able to.

But alas, Dylan had his fair share of being a stubborn son of a bastard. He would refuse her offers most of the time. He knew he could use some help around the facility, but he couldn't really bring himself to bring a work partner into his problems.

So he thought of some sentences to reassure his work partner that he was okay.

"Don't worry about me, yeah? I can do this all day...or night, I guess I should say. I've gotten used to stay up late during my younger days. I'll be fine."

"You better be. The big speech is to be given in like...less than 57 hours."

"...Do you have to really be that specific?" Dylan asked, feeling a bit weirded out by Christine's specificity.

"No. But I sorta have to, y'know? Seeing as you only have around two days to prepare yourself alongside others, I kinda have to make you feel more...pressured."

Dylan sighed. He rubbed his head, ruffling through his blonde hair with one of his hands, feeling a slight bit of irritation and headache creeping into his brain. He had a lot to prepare and think about, but the unknown nature of the 'big speech' had been creeping around in his mind, nagging at him.

"Do you know what the 'big speech' will even be about?"

"I don't know. I just know that we will be leading the security team for it, in case anything goes wrong."

Confusion filled Dylan's head.

"With the lots of us around, what maniac would even try to do anything during the ceremony?"

"Who knows?"

Dylan sighed. Christine stared at him. Dylan had no idea who would try to infiltrate a ceremony when security would be really tight on that day. Christine, noticing Dylan's state, decided to continue.

"But remember; it still doesn't excuse us. And the security team as a whole. We're protecting our employer, whether you like it or not."

As a response, Dylan raised his eyebrows and extended his arms to his sides, as if showing off the environment around him.

"I know. I brought myself into this place, I will have to do my job properly." He stated in a matter-of-fact nature.

"...Good." Christine turned to leave, but one last thought entered her mind.

"And get enough sleep when you get home later." She then left, going back to her post to guard the lower half of the building. By using the elevator, course.

Dylan sat at his desk, returning to watch the monitors that pretty much showed every single corner of the rooms position on the upper half of the building. He never talked about it, but his face said a lot of what was going in his mind.

He was damn bored. Sitting around watching some monitors just to keep out for any intruder. Dylan was never really fond of it. But he still came back because in the end, he still gets paid for it.

_'Anything for money...'_

Pondering on that one statement, he then thought back to his earlier days, when he worked with a bunch of...really capable people. They were something. Dylan had worked with them for a lot of years, especially after getting dishonorably discharged from the military.

Together, they worked on a lot of contracts; killing, kidnapping or maybe even robbing people. All those years working the crime, Dylan had never realized how much he kinda missed his...partners.

He never really liked doing all those things with them. But you know what they say, "desperate time calls for desperate measure". Yet, he couldn't get the faces of every single one of his partners in crime out of his head.

_'Damn it. Really got stuck in me, huh?'_

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded up paper. He unfolded the picture and pondered on the sight that welcomed him.

In the picture was Dylan, standing alongside various other people from very different backgrounds, if their features were any indication. He let out a small smile. Sure, they could have stuck together for a few more while, but the conditions weren't letting them. He turned the picture around, looking at the back.

_Stay alive, Iceman!_

Dylan stared at the words written on the back. He had always wondered why Iceman was the nickname given to him. One of the assumptions he always had was due to his seemingly cold-blooded nature. But even then, he would always show a few expressions during his contract missions.

He shrugged, folding the picture and putting it back into his pocket. He then leaned back on his chair, continuing to watch the monitors for the next few hours.

In the back of his mind, however, he kept questioning if there were any other of his partners who were still around and awake at that time.

**Gold Bar, around the same time...**

For a place called Gold Bar, the quality of the place is quite the opposite...almost. The outside of the bar sported a neon sign that says the name of the bar. Not so bad.

The inside, however, sported a very different type of fancy. The tables are the very standard wooden tables that you would find at a lot of restaurants. The chairs, however, are the type of plastic chairs that you would find at a small roadside food stall.

The walls are dark green and looked very bland. Some parts of the walls had stains on them, which could've come from either drinks or food. The workers tried to clean them, but all they could do was make the stains smell nicer. The stains stayed on the wall, and the customers would occasionally look at them.

Our focus, however, would go to the man behind the counter. The man that pretty much is the owner of that bar. There were no other workers around him, presumably having already gotten to their home.

He was at the counter, wiping it with some clothes and some water that had been mixed with soap. Since he had just recently finished his work for the day, he decided to clean up where ever he needed to. He had a look of uneasiness on his face, mixed with some hidden anger in his dull, yellow eyes. The brown short-sleeved T-shirt he wore had some kind of wet stain on it, presumably from a drink.

"Fucking people..."

After cleaning the counter, he walked out of the counter and went to clean the tables that had been used by most of the customers. He had to make sure they would be clean by the time he ought to have the place opened again.

However, due to his somewhat questionable mentality during that time, he had some...complications.

"Damn it! You just couldn't stop being selfish, you piece! Of! Shit!"

It was a good thing that the place had closed down for the day, as all the time during his afterwork cleaning session, he kept shouting out swears and vile motions towards someone that wasn't even there. He was pretty much just showing himself as a psycho. However, since he kept looking at the object in his sight while he was cleaning, one could then assume he was mad at someone else, presumably to whoever was in his mind at that time.

"Damn it...G..."

He then slowly lowered his head onto the table he was currently cleaning, not caring that the liquid had gotten on his face. His anger seemed to fade away from his eyes, his face then showing off a more sad, solemn face.

He stayed in that position for a while, seemingly stuck in a trance. Whatever the trance he was stuck in, it was causing his body to slow down. His eyelids then started to slowly close, pretty much knowing it himself that he would never get to finish his cleaning session...

**RING!** **RING!**

...Until the phone suddenly rang, that was.

"Motherf-!"

The bar owner shot up from his oncoming slumber. He looked around for awhile, his mind was still trying to function again. He then locked onto the phone on the counter. He tried to get out of the chair he was sitting at, but ended up stumbling over it, almost falling face first onto the ground.

"Shit!"

**RING!** **RING!**

Luckily, he managed to grab the table and pulled himself up, quickly jogging over to the counter.

**RING!** **RI-**

He picked up the phone.

"Hello, Skygator he-"

He quickly slapped a hand over his mouth. It looked like whatever that weird name was, he did not favor it a lot.

"...I mean...this is Richard Movers speaking. How can I help you?"

He waited a bit for the whoever called him to respond, hoping for the caller to ignore the fact he just used a weird nickname.

Less than 10 seconds later, he heard a small laugh.

_"Man, Rick_._ I know you miss us, but really dude? Using your codename at work?"_

Hearing a female voice coming out from the receiver prompted Richard's brain to then start working its gears. He knew that voice. He just couldn't believe it.

"What the f...Is this fucking Lauren Wallers?"

He heard Lauren laughed again, albeit a bit louder than last time.

"_Nice job, son! Yes! It's Pawsome!"_

"...I still hate you for keeping that name. And please. Don't call me 'son' ever again."

"_Oh, what's wrong with you?"_

Jeez, his anger must've been so visible that night, that even a caller could hear it.

"Nothing that concerns you that much. Why are you calling me at like...it's almost two. In the morning."

"_I don't know really. Have you heard about some kind of speech being given on Thursday?"_

"A speech? What speech?"

"_Yeah. Apparently, the head of Schnee Dust Company will give out a speech. I don't know what's the speech will be, exactly. And for some reason, the people started theorizing about what the speech will be about."_

"Theorizing? It's a fucking speech. From the head of SDC himself. Why would people...are the majority of those people Faunus?"

"_I can't tell, really. Just because I'm one of them, doesn't mean I know what they're all thinking."_

Richard sighed in irritation. He didn't even know why he continued to talk to one of his former business partners, knowing he really shouldn't be talking about his past life any more than he wanted to.

"Are you seriously calling me just to tell me this? You _do_ realize I'm not doing this shit any more, yeah?"

"_...Yeah. I know. It's just that...Dylan's working at SDC, right?"_

"So what?"

"_You don't think he's planning anything while he's over there?"_

"...It's Dylan. Dylan Winds? The Iceman? You know he can't plan for shit, right? He's just...G's main muscle man."

He found it hard to let the one letter name out. Richard waited a moment for a response. It was not loud, but Richard could hear a bit of sighing coming from the receiver.

"_I know, I know. But it's just that the head of SDC himself is going on an open stage to do some kind of ceremony. It's a bit too out in the open."_

"If that's your concern, might as well throw it out the window. Dylan, Loomer and Rei can't plan for shit. G and Cera would not try to assassinate a very important person, unless someone pays them to do so, in which, those two siblings are fucked. Shit, hire all of them. Hire all of _u_s. We're dead before the plan I made, if I even make any, can even commence."

There was no response. Silence flowed through the air. Richard waited for Lauren to say anything. Yet, nothing came. He didn't feel like waiting any longer, so he voiced his final thoughts.

"Listen, if you done talking, good night. And go to sleep."

Richard then placed the receiver back on its holder. He stared at his phone for a good 10 seconds before walking away, preparing to leave some of the dirty tables behind in that condition just so he could get some sleep for the next day.

**Some apartment in the city...around the time Richard put down the phone...**

Lying on her bed, Lauren kept her grip on her scroll. Hearing a particular name to come out of Richard's mouth caused her mind to start flashing back to her old days.

On her scroll, she exited the contact app and opened the gallery that housed a lot of pictures. Most of them were of a group of people, in which Lauren was always one of the people in the group in those pictures. She scrolled through the pictures, letting out either a small smile or maybe a laugh occasionally.

However, her focus would always go to a particular woman with light blonde hair. In one of the pictures, the woman was getting her cheek pressed against Lauren's. The woman seemed forced, yet, her face suggested she was just fine with it. The woman even had one of her hands on Lauren's head, just patting the extra set of ears on her head.

Lauren traced a finger on the woman in the picture. She reached up onto her head, touching her set of bear ears. She then brought her hand back down.

"...CeCe..."

And then, before she knew it, she fell asleep. A smile was plastered on her face as she went into her slumber. The name and the face of CeCe kept playing in her head as she slept, leaving her dreaming a happy dream.

* * *

**Heh. You're expecting 2DOR? Well too bad!**

**...I'm very sorry. For making you wait a long time just for me to write down a chapter.**

**I can't even keep my promise.**

**Also, let me know if you notice any grammar error or maybe even continuity error. I'm really trying to stay on a line here.**

**See ya!**


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